


miracle

by svitzian



Series: finnpoe fics [3]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Blood, Childhood Trauma, Death, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Non-Graphic Violence, Parenthood, finn and poe get a baby
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-01-27 12:30:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21392197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/svitzian/pseuds/svitzian
Summary: By all accounts, Shara should not be here right now, in Finn’s arms. She is, though, and that’s a miracle.Or: the story of how Finn and Poe accidentally became parents, and all that came after.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Finn
Series: finnpoe fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1539958
Comments: 18
Kudos: 89





	1. chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> my first attempt at a chapter fic!!!!!
> 
> basically, god came to me and said "give finn and poe a baby," and i said "ok, god."
> 
> thus, this is going to be a loosely structured fic following finn, poe, and their baby, and all the ensuing adventures. i hope it is fluffy and good and enjoyable. <3
> 
> originally was going to be a one shot, but i decided that there's just too much here for me to not work with it.

Rey would like Dantooine. That’s what Finn thinks when he first lands, shuttled down with the rest of the little ragtag ground team he’s been assigned to. It’s green, and there’s lots of trees, and Rey loves trees, so he thinks she’d like this. She’d like it in different circumstances, though, because right now it’s looking quite a bit like hell.

Around the lush greenery and forests surrounding him is blaster fire, complemented only by screams that Finn has come to know all too well. He doesn’t flinch at them anymore, like he did on Jakku, because now it’s different—now, he’s not the reason these villagers are screaming. He’s helping, not hurting, and that fuels him to go charging into battle.

Battle, which is as tough as it always is. They’re outnumbered. Sometimes it seems like the Order’s troops are limitless—and Finn knows that in a way, they are, that they’ll keep throwing soldiers into this mess of a war, and when those soldiers die screaming on the battlefield, they’ll take children and make new ones. He knows because he was in that same cycle, getting chewed up and used. He was lucky enough to escape before the Order got a chance to spit him out.

But he’s _here_ now, he reminds himself. Here on the ground, a blaster in his hands, with his troops beside him—troops who are his friends, troops who are here because they _want_ to fight from the goodness of their hearts, not because they’ve been made to. And above him—more friends, more comrades, and Poe, probably doing some fancy maneuvering of his X-wing and taking out TIEs by the minute. Finn chooses to let that image fill his head, and ignores the alternative, even as he sees a pillar of smoke soaring across the sky overhead that he _knows_ was once a ship.

Every mission they go on, Finn makes Poe promise to be okay. Poe was resistant at first, telling him that all sorts of things could go wrong, things that they had no control over, but eventually, finally, conceded, with one condition. Finn was made to promise the same thing.

_Promises_, Finn reminded himself. Promises that couldn’t be broken. Poe would be okay, and in return, Finn had to be as well.

Luckily, this battle doesn’t scrape him too badly, even as it becomes more and more clear that they’re losing ground. The Order just keeps pushing forwards, blazing through village after village on their way. Finn and his troops try to push back, they do, but they don’t have nearly enough support—and when the solemn order to retreat comes, they solemnly obey. They can’t afford to keep fighting a losing battle right now.

The pilots overhead are trying to create as much of a diversion as possible while the ground forces trace back to the rendezvous point through torched villages and burning forests. They do more than just retreat, though—they _take._ Finn hates it, hates the feeling of pulling a blaster from a dead villager’s hands, but they have no choice. He already knows that they’ll have lost equipment in this battle. If they don’t at least attempt to replace it, then their losses are only going to grow more and more out of control.

Even this rationality doesn’t dispel the sickness he feels looking at the bodies. Some of them spark a little bit of hope in his heart, a little bit of that fire that keeps him fighting. Those ones are propped behind outcroppings of houses, blasters gripped tightly in their dead hands. They fought this, and they died fighting it, and Finn will be damned if he lets those sacrifices, the sacrifices of strangers, go to waste. It makes him _angry_, makes him see red, but not nearly as much as the other bodies.

The bodies in the houses are undoubtedly the worst. Most of them are slumped over and lifeless, some bleeding still onto the floor, but Finn doesn’t have to venture very far into his imagination to feel the fear and terror that they must have in their last moments. These bodies are not those of fighters. They’re just people, just villagers. They’re _families_. Old women, dead in their beds. Lovers holding each other in their last moments, trapped in that embrace even in death. These bodies are what makes Finn angriest of all, and sickest of all.

Sometimes, every so often, he sees a body smaller than the rest. He’s gotten better at dealing with it over time, yes, but even so, he can’t help the shock that suddenly hits him to his very core, the wave of nausea that comes over him the moment he sees those bodies. The first time, back on his second ever ground mission with the Resistance, when he’d stumbled across a little girl with hair the color of straw matted with dark, red, ugly blood, lying _lifeless _on the floor, he’d barely managed to get off to cover before he was vomiting, harsh and violent, just like the feelings swirling in his chest. Undoubtedly, the bodies of the children were the worst to see.

(And yet. At the end of the day, lying back in his quarters, he was almost grateful. The Order had hurt those children, but they had died with families. They had died as themselves, not as the mindless drones of a monster that didn’t care for their feelings. It was a horrible fate, and Finn didn’t want them to die, didn’t want to see any more of those little bodies, but he at least hoped with all of his heart that it was at least better—easier, faster—than the alternative of a family forgotten and a spirit crushed.)

These days, he tries not to think about the bodies, even as the thoughts begin to creep past his defenses. As he steps around corpses, into the homes of these people he’s never met and will never know, he tries so hard not to think, to shut his mind down for the time being so that he can protect himself from the ugly feelings that already torment him all too often.

This home, though. Something is different about this home.

From the outside, it looks like much of the others—a small hut probably belonging to a family of farmers, with a rounded ceiling. But the blaster marks surrounding one of the windows tell Finn that someone in there was engaging with the Order. That means they had a weapon, and as he steps through the charred door of the building, Finn hopes that weapon is still functional. He hopes he’s not putting himself through this in vain.

The home itself is, well…. Homey. Not that Finn knows much about what _homey_ really means, but he’s gotten a sense for it ever since he’s joined the Resistance. He’s seen the knickknacks in everyone’s quarters. Jess has a thing for antique little figurines, he’s learned, and Poe—well, Poe’s belongings are messy and many, but each one really means something to him. Finn knows because he’s asked. He’s seen the way Poe’s eyes light up when he talks about the little drawing he keeps on his nightstand, or the old book with a worn-out spine, or the ring on a chain around his neck.

This home must’ve meant a lot to the people who lived here, Finn thinks. It’s full of _things_—junk, Finn might’ve once said, but he knows better now. There’s little dishes everywhere, some of them ornate and decorated, and some small statuettes—maybe of gods, or higher beings. It’s all in disarray now, much of what might’ve once been meaningful objects now in shards on the floor or half-broken or charred from blaster fire. He doesn’t have time to stop and take it all in, he knows, he needs to get in and get out so that they can get the hell away from this planet, but his eyes land on one little thing on the floor and he freezes.

It's a toy.

Finn doesn’t know what, exactly, it’s supposed to be, or do, but he recognizes it because the two Twi’lek children who had temporarily sheltered with the Resistance after the mess on Ryloth had one. He thinks he can remember it making noise, but he’s not sure. All he knows is that it’s a toy, a _child’s_ toy.

His heart sinks, and without thinking twice, he braces himself for what he’s about to find, stiffening as he steps further into the house. He’s distracted, though, and he accidentally kicks a piece of something ceramic on the way, shattering it into little pieces when it rolls against the wall. It makes a noise when it breaks, but that noise isn’t what Finn focuses on. It’s what comes after that demands his attention.

There’s crying.

No, not crying. Wailing.

Immediately, his body tenses. He goes completely rigid, but the rigidity only lasts a second before the next impulses kick in, taking over his body and pushing rationality to the backburner. He stumbles over a couple more items as he follows the source of the noise, eyes wide and alert, the little toy on the floor long forgotten as he stumbles into the next room. Once more, he freezes.

He sees the weapon. It’s clutched tightly in a man’s hands, a man who is now slumped lifeless and still bleeding against the wall near the window he must’ve once shot out of. The weapon, though, is not of importance right now, because the crying is still happening. Only a short distance from the man is a woman, equally lifeless and equally bloody. The only injury Finn can see is in her right arm, and with a sinking feeling, he realizes she must’ve bled out. The opposite of an immediate death. He could only imagine that it was slow, and agonizing, and yet despite the pain, this woman has somehow managed to keep a pile of blankets in her other, uninjured arm. _Blankets_, Finn thinks in confusion.

Then another wail.

The blankets are crying.

Blankets don’t cry, though. Something _inside_ the blankets is crying. And as Finn rushes forward, wide eyes looking down at the bundle in the woman’s arms, his terrified thoughts are confirmed.

A _baby_ is crying.

Finn doesn’t think he has much in the way of instincts—not people instincts, at least. He had friends in the Order, but they were never close, and certainly never touchy. He’d always been an outlier, a loner, never really engaging with others. Even now, when Poe would grab his hand or press a hurried kiss to his cheek before running off to the hangar, it still felt weird in a thrilling sort of way, to touch someone else so easily.

What happens next, though, can only be explained as instincts, instincts that Finn certainly didn’t realize he had. He rushes forward, and with surprising ease, slides the bundle of blankets out of the woman’s arms and into his own, and he looks down at the wailing baby inside of them.

The baby is crying, alright. Their mouth is twisted into a wail, eyes shut tight, and—Finn’s heart drops—there’s a little splatter of blood across the pale skin of their face. But they don’t seem to be _hurt_. Terrified, yes, but as Finn frantically pats the blankets over, looking for any sign of injury, he comes up empty. The blood must’ve come from the woman, then. If she’d been near the baby when she was shot… _kriff._

The baby wails again, this time even louder than before, so loud that Finn thinks for a moment his ears might just stop working forever, and he’s entirely snapped out of those thoughts. Now, his attention is on this baby, and his new mission—making the baby stop crying.

“Hey. Hey, hey, hey,” he murmurs quickly, and a little fearfully, though his aim is to soothe. But Finn’s never _soothed_ before, at least not intentionally. Finn’s never been near a baby before, let alone held one, and he doesn’t know how to do this, but all at once, he realizes that this baby is now his responsibility. This baby’s alive, by some odd chance—and their parents are not. Their parents are dead, killed by the Order, and Finn would be damned before he let that very same Order comb back through and take this child.

No. Finn decides, with no debate, that this child is his responsibility now, and he is going to keep them safe.

“Shh. Shh, hey. I’m here. You’re okay. You’re… you’re okay.” The baby is still screaming, despite his best efforts, and Finn forces himself to take a deep breath in order to keep those screams from drilling straight to his mind. Right. Okay. _Think, Finn, _he reminds himself—and then, baby in his arms, he stumbles back into the common room, the weapon in the man’s hands long forgotten. Suddenly, its retrieval—or rather, its theft—doesn’t seem so important.

His focus has shifted, now, and even in his hurry, he’s careful to keep a firm grip on the baby as he crouches down to grab that toy. It makes a noise as he does so, a sort of rattling, and—and that’s it, that’s what it is, a _rattle_, he remembers—and he presses it through the blankets, into the baby’s grasping little hand. _Stars, that’s a little hand_. The baby gets a grip on the handle of the toy, though, and it seems to soothe them a little, even if they’re still twisting and frowning. No more crying, though, and Finn will take a victory where he can get one.

In the meantime, he looks down at this baby again, his eyes searching and mind still processing all of this. _How old is this kid, even?_ They’re so _small_ that Finn can’t put it into words. Once, he’d been on sanitation duty in the young cadet’s rooms. They’d been two, and _messy_, the Order-imposed cleanliness not yet drilled into their little brains, but even they had been bigger than this. A lot bigger, he thought.

The baby twisted again, and this time, the noise that left their lips wasn’t so piercing, but it was definitely still distressed. Finn knew he didn’t have time to sit here and think a lot longer, not with the Order on the tails of his troop. He needed to go, now, and that meant the baby was coming with.

“I know. I know, yeah,” he mumbled quickly, reaching with his free hand to try and bundle the kid up a little more, making sure the rattle was tucked safely in between some of the folds. “We’re gonna get moving now. You’re gonna be okay.” He didn’t know if this thing in his arms, now staring up at him with big, dark eyes the size of _planets_, understood. Then again, maybe he was saying it to reassure himself more than he was to reassure them.

When he stumbled back out into the air again, the smell of burning forest hitting his nose, he was met almost face to face with Lieutenant Connix, her small mouth twisted in worry.

“I—”

“Thought something had happened,” Kaydel said quickly, before Finn could get a word out, concern leeching into her voice and a frown on her lips—and then she looked down to the blankets bundled in Finn’s hands, just as the baby let out another unhappy noise. Something flickered on her face—shock, maybe, which Finn was also feeling quite a lot of. Her eyes looked up to Finn’s, but she didn’t speak, affirming her thoughts just through their held gaze. This baby was alive, and needed to be brought somewhere safe. Finn knew Connix didn’t need words to understand that.

The woman stiffened, and nodded her head off to the side, where the rest of their little squad was pushing on. “Come on. We’ve got to get to the shuttle.”

Finn didn’t need to be told twice. The baby was still making noises, and shifting in his arms, but Finn held onto them as tightly yet carefully as he could as he began navigating his way back through the remants of the little village, once this child’s home, now ashes and corpses. Another wave of hurt hit him, the realization that this baby, as little as they were, would probably never remember their home.

Maybe that was part of why he was holding them so close. Maybe, a little voice in the back of his mind flickered, he wondered what his life might’ve been like if it had been like this, if by some miracle he’d been saved from the clutches of the Order.

That didn’t matter now, though, nor did any more of his thoughts, or the confused looks the other members of his squad gave him when he caught up to them, a cooing and mumbling little bundle of rags in his hands. Nothing other than getting to the shuttle mattered, and when Finn finally made it, his lungs burning a little from the exhaustion, he collapsed into one of the waiting seats.

“Taking off now,” the pilot warned, but Finn didn’t hear and didn’t care, even if it meant the lurch of lifting off the ground came as a surprise. His eyes were focused downwards, now, staring at the baby in his arms, the baby that was now holding his gaze.

He could feel the gazes of the other soldiers on him, confused and surprised and perhaps a little entertained, even, but for a few moments, it was quiet. Connix was the first one to speak, stepping forward but keeping her hand on one of the bars lining the walls to keep herself steady as they made their way out of atmosphere, back to base with the rest of the shuttles.

“Did you…?” Finn didn’t know what she meant to say or imply, and after a moment, he realized Connix herself probably didn’t, either. His eyes darted up, and then around the shuttle, taking in the waiting looks of his comrades before he finally cleared his throat and managed to get some words out.

“I, uh. They were just in a house. In a woman’s arms, but she was dead, shot, and…” He let out a little bit of an uneasy exhale, eyes returning back to Connix. “If the Order found them, they would’ve—”

“I know.” That didn’t need to be said. Everyone knew Finn’s story, by now. They knew where the Order sourced their troopers from. Finn slumped a little bit, eyes trailing back down to that little face, the little mouth curled up in an ‘o’—and then a hand was pressing down gently on his shoulder, and when he looked up, Connix was watching him, her own expression soft.

“We’ll take care of them, Finn. We’ll make sure they’re safe.” Her voice was that of an officer, yes, authoritative and firm, but it was that of a _friend_, too, reassuring. Finn softened a little, and nodded, clearing his throat yet again.

“Yeah. Thank you.” He didn’t know what he was thanking her for, really, and mercifully, she didn’t ask, just went back to her usual business. That left Finn looking down at the baby in his arms, ignoring the way the shuttle soon filled with the murmurings of the other soldiers. Normally, he would’ve engaged with them, commenting on what they’d seen or what good calls had been made, or how desperate they were for a fresher and a bed.

Now, though, his attention was elsewhere. He swiped his thumb across his tongue, reaching down to gently try and wipe away some of the blood that had gotten onto the baby’s head. For the most part, it worked, and he wiped his hand off on the blanket a little, looking away for only a moment. In that short time, the baby had managed to wrestle one stubby, chubby arm free of Finn’s not-too-great attempt of swaddling—and now, that hand was reaching out, tiny little fingers grasping for something while a few soft noises left the baby’s lips.

Maybe it was instincts again, but instead of tucking that arm back into the blankets, Finn reached down, letting the baby grasp one of his fingers. They had a good grip—strong, Finn thought, for a baby their size. _They_ were strong. They were a survivor.

A smile slipped onto his lips, slow and anxious and warm and awestruck all at once, and slowly, he exhaled, looking down at the way the baby’s little fingers wrapped around his own digit.

“You’re gonna be okay,” he murmured, once more meeting the baby’s eyes, this time not caring if they understood. “I’ll make sure of it.”

They stayed like that for the rest of the shuttle ride.


	2. chapter two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to everyone who has read, commented, and left kudos!!!!!!!! it means an absurd amount to me. seriously. updates for this might be erratic and not at all on schedule, but every time i get that 'you got kudos!' email, an angel gets its wings AND i get inspiration to write.
> 
> this chapter is a bit short, i think, but i hope you have fun. we will have more baby times soon.

It isn’t until the shuttle lands that Finn realizes Poe is probably going to be furious.

Not about the baby, of course. Poe—well. Actually, Finn doesn’t really know what Poe will think about the baby.

About _Finn,_ though, he’s going to be fuming.

They have a rule between the two of them. Personal comms aren’t allowed in the field, for pretty obvious reasons. But on the shuttles, on the way back to base, they’re definitely allowed—and heavily used. Every mission, as soon as they’re on their way back to base, he and Poe comm each other. It’s reassurance that the other is okay, that they really are coming back—uninjured, of course. Hopefully.

The only issue is that as the shuttle touches down in the hangar, Finn realizes his big mistake. He didn’t comm Poe.

Immediately, he imagines the scene that is likely going to greet him in the hangar. No doubt Poe’s worked himself into some frantic sort of state by now, no matter how much Jess and Snap and Karé have probably tried to reassure him. After all, Finn would be doing much of the same if he hadn’t heard from Poe after a mission. No contact, no sign that he was unhurt or even _alive_…

Yeah. Poe is going to be furious. At least, he will be once he realizes that Finn isn’t hurt, or dead.

Finn fumbles for his comm where he’s shoved it into his back pocket, but that means taking his finger out of the baby’s grip, something which they clearly don’t like. He fidgets as he tries to grab the device without disturbing them too much, but it’s wedge tight into his belt and he can’t quite get it, and soon enough, the shuttle door is opening anyways, his fellow troops starting to pour out to reunite with friends and family.

Well. Looks like he’ll just have to face this one head on.

He takes a deep breath, and then holds the baby close again as he gets back onto his feet, following the swarm of people. After a mission like this, a battle, the hangar is always overcrowded, people trying to find loved ones. Sometimes, the large room will be filled with cheers and shouts of victory. Other times, like now, it’s filled simply with quiet compliments of a ‘job well done’ or a ‘good shot’ and sighs of relief. Either way, it’s crowded, and Finn can only imagine that finding Poe is going to be a hell of a job. He stumbles forward, weaving through the throngs of people a lot more carefully than he usually would. This time is different. This time, he has a baby in his hands, a baby that he needs to keep safe. Part of that means not bumping into people while he tries to peek his head above the crowd, searching for that shock of dark curls that he’s come to know very well.

In the end, though, after a little while of searching, it’s Poe who finds him. The moment he sees him, standing off to the side of the hangar and surveying the crowd with those big worried eyes, Finn can’t help but smile a little despite himself, despite how upset he knows Poe must be, because stars, Finn just loves him—and, in all reality, he’s relieved that the other is okay, too.

Poe’s eyes land on him after what Finn can only assume was a good while of searching, and the man doesn’t hesitate before rushing forward towards Finn, not seeming to notice the bundle in his arms at first. Finn braces himself for the embrace he knows is coming, and moves the baby to the side a little so they won’t be crushed by Poe’s tight hug. Luckily, when Poe, with those big shining eyes and relief on his face, finally makes it to him, he doesn’t reach out for a hug. Instead, his hands fly to Finn’s cheeks, holding his face and pressing a frantic, quick kiss to his forehead.

“Buddy. Kriff, buddy,” he breathes out, emotion thickening his voice, and Finn closes his eyes, a wave of guilt that he’s made Poe so worried passing through him. It was an honest mistake, he reminds himself—and one that he couldn’t really help, given the circumstances.

Poe pulls back, finally, only to look Finn over desperately, eyes searching for any injuries as his mouth continues at rapid-fire speed. “You don’t know how scared I was, Finn. I—you didn’t _comm_, and then I saw Connix and the others, but I couldn’t _find you_—” His rambling cuts off for a bit, if only so that he can get out the important questions. “Are you hurt? You need to go to med bay? Stars, Finn, _what happened_?”

He’s working himself up, now. Finn’s gotten pretty good at recognizing it, and pretty good at talking him down, but it’s still a little bit of a tall order when his attention is still split with this baby in his arms. This baby that Poe hasn’t noticed, still, because he’s too stupidly concerned with Finn.

“I’m fine. I’m _fine_, really. I’m sorry for not comming you, I just…” How can he finish that sentence? He glances down, back to the little face in between all of those blankets, and Poe’s worried gaze follows.

For some reason, it makes Finn nervous, Poe’s eyes finally landing on this poor kid. He doesn’t know how he’ll react, or what he might think. He _thinks_ Poe likes kids. He’s good with them, at least. He showed those two Twi’lek kids all around the X-wings, after all, and he’s pretty sure he even let BB-8 take a break from repairs to run around with them, but…

Poe’s voice is incredibly soft when he speaks again. “Oh,” he says, and his eyes are still fixed to that little face—and now, a little hand, once more having broken free from Finn’s awful work tucking it into the blankets. His eyes flicker to Finn’s face again only for a moment, a question in them that doesn’t need to be spoken, and Finn swallows, stiffening a little as he holds the baby.

“We were running through houses during the retreat, trying to grab weapons.” The explanation comes quiet, no matter how hard Finn tries to speak up. He can still see it—the disarray of the house, the bodies of the man and woman in that little room. He can still hear the baby’s wailing. “I heard crying, and…” He looks over to Poe again, brow creased a little with worry, lips pressed firmly together with resolution. “I couldn’t leave them.”

Poe nods quickly in response, and it’s a welcome reassurance given how out of his element Finn feels right now. With the adrenaline of battle finally trickling out of his body, everything is hitting him at once. He’s starting to realize that he’s really holding a baby—a kriffing _baby_—and somehow, he almost wishes that he was in the middle of blaster fire instead. It’d be a lot less scary, he thinks. Blaster fire he can take, and he’s taken it before. But dealing with a baby…

“Hey. Hey, Finn, buddy,” Poe murmurs, searching to meet his eyes, and it’s only then that Finn realizes he must’ve zoned out into what Poe calls his ‘worried face.’ It happens a lot more often than he’d like to admit. He refocuses himself on Poe, taking a deep breath as one of the man’s arms wraps around him. “You’re alright. They’re alright. Let’s go to medbay, okay? Get them checked out.”

That’s one of Poe’s favorite tactics for when Finn gets overwhelmed—going somewhere with not-so-many people, somewhere a little quieter, where he’s not surrounded by noise and stimulation. It helps. Right now, though, he’s not sure if this is a tactic to calm Finn down or a genuine, rational response to the baby situation. He isn’t sure if he cares, either, and he steps forward, keeping close to Poe as the pilot leads them through the crowd.

Taking the baby to medbay is good thinking, smart thinking, the kind that Finn can’t really do right now. He checked the baby for injuries, but that had just been a cursory glance-over. There could be something under the blankets, something he missed—

“Finn. Babe. It’s gonna be okay.” Poe’s voice cuts him out of it, once again, and Finn finally peels his gaze away from the baby to look over at him again, to take in that worried look in his eyes and the little frown on his lips. Finn already knows that worry isn’t just for him, but also for the baby in his arms. Poe _cares_ about this baby, just the same as Finn does. He can see it. It’s a definite relief.

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry,” he murmurs as they turn down a hall, letting out a slow and uneasy breath, and Poe shakes his head, watching the younger man still.

“No ‘sorry’s, buddy. You’re okay.” After a moment, he cracks a smile, the corners of his lips lifting slightly in an attempt at keeping the mood light. “Just worrying me a little. You’re holding onto that baby like your life depends on it.”

For some reason, the comment makes Finn flush—and immediately loosen his grip a little. He doesn’t want to hurt the baby, after all—in fact, quite the opposite. Unfortunately, though, the baby doesn’t look all too happy. Not screaming again, not like before, but that little mouth is beginning to twist into a frown. Just that sight strikes fear into Finn’s chest like the Order never could.

“Are they—”

“They’re okay,” Poe reassures quickly, like it’s second nature by now, but that doesn’t stop the cry from finally leaving the baby’s lips, long and miserable sounding. Finn’s heart stops, and _he_ stops, too, feet pausing in the middle of the hallway as he tries to think of how to possibly respond.

Luckily, Poe takes over for him, keeping his arm around him and walking forward so that Finn has little choice but to do the same. Doesn’t keep Finn from worrying, though, especially as another cry, equally heartbreaking, quickly follows.

“Poe, what if they—”

“Hey. Hey, no worrying,” Poe says quickly, but even as he speaks, Finn can hear a little tinge of worry in his own tone. _Hypocrite_. “Let’s just get to medical, okay?” Finn nods eagerly and keeps up with Poe’s brisk pace, anxious to figure out what the kriff is going on and how to make the baby stop crying like this because each little wail is hurting his chest.

When the doors of the med bay finally come into view, Poe begins to walk ahead of him a little bit, and Finn’s half certain that he’s going to knock those doors right down. Thankfully, he doesn’t get a chance to, because one of the medics—Dr. Kalonia—is already peeking her head out, wide eyes taking in the sight in front of her.

“Oh, dear,” she says quietly, mostly to herself. Finn wonders if she could hear the crying from inside the med bay doors.

“I just—I found them, in one of the houses. I don’t know if they’re hurt, I didn’t see anything, but they won’t stop crying—” Finn doesn’t need any questioning before he launches into his rambling, but Dr. Kalonia is equally quick. She’s at his side in no time, carefully taking the baby into her own arms.

Finn’s hands feel empty and helpless, now that they’re not holding the baby. He swallows that feeling down.

“We’ll do a check-up right away,” Dr. Kalonia says, her old, wiry voice soft and reassuring—deceptively so, given how efficiently she moves. “Check for any injuries, any problems—”

“Okay. Okay, yeah, okay,” Poe says quickly, and it doesn’t come as a surprise to Finn. When Poe gets nervous, he doesn’t shut up. Right now, if he’s feeling anything like Finn is, he’s probably nervous out of his mind.

“I’ll tell you as soon as we know anything,” Dr. Kalonia promises, quietly yet firmly, and she quickly turns to duck back into the med bay, bringing the baby back to some little check-up room in the back of the bay. Somewhere Finn can’t follow.

There’s no reason for him to be attached to this baby. He _knows_ that, logically, rationally. This is just a child he found in the middle of war. It is not _his_ child, he knows, but that’s how it feels when he’s left standing in the hallway, watching the bundle in Dr. Kalonia’s arms until the both of them disappear behind a door. It feels like someone has taken something from him, and it hurts.

Poe seems to understand this. Poe understands a lot about Finn. Sometimes, Finn thinks he understands more than Finn understands about himself. A hand comes to rest in his, replacing the sudden emptiness with connection, and when Finn finally looks over at the other man, he’s got a small, hopeful little smile on his face. Clearly, he’s trying to reassure Finn, even if the worry he’s trying to cover up is still clear behind his eyes.

“C’mon. Let’s sit down.”

Poe guides the both of them to a couple of the chairs lining the wall. Finn has sat here before, waiting for Poe to be released after getting scraped up during a mission. The memories are certainly not fond ones. Every time, though, Poe came out in the end, patched up and smiling.

Finn just hopes this visit will end the same way.

“What’s going to happen to the baby?” The question leaves his mouth of its own accord, and his eyes are stuck on Poe’s, watching every little minute twitch of the man’s expression. “I didn’t—kriff. I didn’t even look for ID on the family, or anything.” Maybe there was a chance they had some relatives off world, aunts or uncles who would rise up to the occasion and take them in. Finn hadn’t gotten an ID, though, didn’t even know this baby’s name. There was no real way to find them.

“I don’t really know, buddy,” Poe murmurs, and Finn can hear the honesty in his voice. “It’s probably happened a couple times before, but those kids were probably older. Probably knew their own names, knew if they had any family to be contacted.” He sighs, and runs his hands through his curls, a sure sign that he’s thinking. “… we’ll talk to the General. Figure out if there’s a family somewhere that can take a baby in.”

The idea really should not hurt as badly as it does. _This baby is not his._ It would do well, he imagines, in a loving home, with a loving family, safe from the horrors of war. But how safe would they be? War was reaching everywhere, now. No village was safe, no _planet_ was safe, so how could this baby be safe--?

“Babe.” Once more, it’s up to Poe to bring him back down to the ground. Finn’s face feels hot, and he knows he’s getting frustrated, working himself up like this. Poe knows, too—clearly. He squeezes Finn’s hand, and turns a little to face him more head-on until Finn cannot possibly avoid his eyes anymore. When he looks up to Poe’s face, though, the man is blurry. Finn realizes only then that there’s tears in his eyes. Luckily, none have fallen—yet.

There’s a moment where Poe softens, just watching him. Finn doesn’t know what he’s thinking, until finally, he leans forward, his free thumb wiping Finn’s cheek where a tear has just fallen—apparently, the waterworks had decided to start—and presses a kiss to his lips, short and sweet and grounding.

He’s here, with Poe. That means he’s okay. That means everything, for the moment, is okay.

“I know you’re worried.” _That’s an understatement,_ Finn would say if he trusted his voice right now. “I know. But you gotta take a few deep breaths. You did everything you could.” He tries for a smile again, thumb still brushing over Finn’s cheek although no more tears have fallen. “You did a hell of a lot. So much that I’m not even mad at you for not comming me,” he adds a bit cheekily. He’s trying to draw Finn in, distract him, lessen his worries. It works, like it always does.

“I really meant to.” That’s an honest statement. He was just preoccupied. He’s been preoccupied for a while now, but with the baby now out of his hands, he finally gets a chance to give Poe the look-over he received in the hangar, checking him for any scrapes or bruises. “You made out okay? And—Snap, and Jess, and everyone, they’re okay?”

Poe smiles a little more—naturally, now, not because he’s trying to achieve a goal. “Yeah. You know me. Best pilot in the galaxy. Best squadron leader, some would say, too.” Finn rolls his eyes, and Poe laughs. This little conversation—the ease of their words, their smiles—is a victory. For now, they’ve managed to push their worries away.

“Getting cocky isn’t gonna help you, you know,” Finn teases, and Poe presses another kiss to his cheek this time. Probably just because he can. Finn has done the same thing a million times over. Each time is equally rewarding.

“Says you, Mr. Big Deal.” He can’t see Poe’s smile, but he can almost feel it against his skin. The tension is melting away, now, little by little, and after a moment, Poe sighs, finally giving in and resting his head against Finn’s shoulder. (His good shoulder, luckily, not the one with the scar from Kylo Ren. That one still hurts sometimes.) Finn swears he can feel Poe’s stifled yawn.

“Little tired after the big firefight?” Normally, the first thing they would do is nap. Sometimes they were too exhausted to even shower beforehand, just running their quarters and curling up together, sweat and grime and all.

“Just a little.” There’s exhaustion behind Poe’s voice, though. He didn’t sleep well last night, Finn remembers—another nightmare, Kylo this time, pushing his way into his mind again. He probably needs rest. Finn sobers a little, some of the fun and teasing slipping away from his expression.

“Don’t have to stay, you know,” he says quietly, glancing down at the bit of curls he can see from their position. “You should go. Rest up. Probably eat something, too.”

A little huff of air comes from the curls, and Finn can’t see, but he knows the look on Poe’s face. A smile, a little shake of his head, what Finn now knows is _love_ shining in his eyes.

“Couldn’t get me up and out of here for a million credits. I’m sticking with you, buddy.”

Finn softens. He can’t argue with that, and he doesn’t want to.

They stay like that, fingers intertwined, Poe leaning on him, for a long while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoyed!!!! if you did, perhaps consider leaving kudos or even a comment (which i will cherish for the rest of my life.) also feel free to check out my other works, of which there are currently 3 but may very well be more soon!!!
> 
> if you want to chat about finnpoe, cats, writing, or anything else in the world, you can find me on twitter @lascndot and on tumblr @dotnscal
> 
> thanks again!!!! <333


	3. chapter three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!!!! i hope you all enjoy this chapter. <3

It feels like an eternity until the med bay doors open up again, but as soon as they do, both he and Poe are sitting up, backs ramrod straight and eyes trained on Dr. Kalonia. Something glints in the woman’s eyes as she looks at the two of them, and she nods her head to the back of the med bay. _Follow me_, the gesture says, and Finn is quick to his feet.

“Is the baby okay? What’s happened?” His brows are creased, and he doesn’t even make an attempt to hide his worry. He’d told himself he was going to protect this baby, going to keep them safe, and if he’s failed at that…

Dr. Kalonia’s lips twist upward, and she seems almost amused by his worrying, in the same motherly type of way that General Organa often is. “Everything’s just fine,” she replies quickly. Finn’s body slumps a little as the tension bleeds out, and beside him, he can hear Poe’s heavy sigh. _Just fine_.

“It turns out,” Dr. Kalonia continues, leading them through the med bay and to a little side area in the back, motioning for them to step through the entryway. “Somebody was fussy because she needed a _diaper change_. No injuries, not even a scratch.”

Finn wants to cry with relief at the news (and also smack himself for not realizing that a _diaper change_ was the solution to all of this), but he doesn’t have a chance. Just as soon as the relief slams into his body, it’s being replaced with another emotion as he looks down at the writhing little figure on the floor.

It’s the baby, this time free of the blankets. They’re beneath her now, laid out to cushion the floor that she’s currently rolling around on. Finn can see more of her, now—the little socks on her little feet, the simple brown dress she’s wearing, the shock of dark curls on the top of her little head. He sees the rattle, too—and hears it, because she seems quite intent on shaking her little fist as much as she can now that she’s free of the swaddling.

On the floor like this, playing, she looks so _little._ It hits Finn hard. His throat tightens, his heart beating a little faster in his chest, and if he hadn’t been sure before, he would know it now.

He would do _anything_ for this little baby.

Finn is frozen in place with the force of his emotions, but Poe reacts quite differently. He kneels down beside the blankets, beside the baby, almost immediately, and he’s smiling like Finn has never quite seen him smile before as he reaches out a hand. When the baby takes his finger into her free fist, gripping it just like she had with Finn’s finger on the shuttle, he laughs like he’s astonished.

“Strong grip,” he comments lightly. He flashes that big grin of his up towards Finn, and Finn feels like the luckiest man in the galaxy just for seeing it. “C’mon, you’ve gotta feel this, she’s holding my finger tighter than you held my hand when we were on that mission on Rakata Prime, when you were hanging over the cliff with the—”

Finn shuts him up before he can recount the entire (embarrassing) story. “You said it’s—it’s a girl?” He’s managed to tear his eyes away from the baby to glance at Dr. Kalonia, who nods.

“I did. A little girl, just about as healthy as can be.” She smiles, too, and moves to grab her datapad. “It’s a bit difficult to estimate age, but she’s looking to be about nine months.”

Finn blinks. “You mean—nine months old?” Dr. Kalonia nods, but it doesn’t make processing that any easier. This baby in front of him has only been in the world for nine months.

Nine months, Finn thinks, and already she’s suffered more than anyone ever should.

He crosses the room until he’s at Poe’s side, carefully lowering himself onto his knees beside the man. At the same time, the baby seems to decide to sit up, and she strains a little bit to do it. Poe reaches out his hands to take hers, seemingly to give her some sort of leverage to hoist herself up with. She takes it, and then proceeds to shock the both of them as she carefully maneuvers herself to stand up, gripping Poe’s hands tightly.

“Woah. Woah, woah, there we go,” Poe says, excitement and a bit of a thrill leeching into his voice, just like it does when he pulls off some fancy maneuver in his X-wing. Finn imagines that Poe feels the same exhilaration pumping through his own body now. He can’t stop himself from smiling, and after a moment, the baby matches his smile. Her mouth splits open, the corners lifting, and Finn catches a glimpse of a couple shining white teeth, small and stubby.

The moment doesn’t last long. The baby stumbles where she’s standing and falls back onto her butt. Poe laughs, and with how absolutely blown away he’s feeling, Finn does, too. After a moment, the baby joins in, matching their laughter with her own cheerful giggles.

Her laughter is probably one of the most beautiful things Finn’s ever heard.

Certainly, it’s much better than her crying.

“The three of you seem to be getting on quite well,” Dr. Kalonia comments idly, but Finn can hear a smile in her voice and knows something is behind that air of casualness. She’s thinking something, but whatever it is that’s really on her mind, Finn can’t make it out. She’s hard to read.

The baby is crawling towards Poe now, on stubby arms and chubby legs. Poe is smiling, and laughing, and the sight makes Finn’s heart warm.

Then his heart aches. After all, this isn’t going to last forever. This baby needs a home.

Finn swallows, and after a moment, turns to Dr. Kalonia again, letting Poe entertain the baby for now. Something else is on his mind, something which suddenly feels like it’s sucking the fun right out of him, along with most of his breath. When he speaks, his voice is a little thicker than he wishes it was.

“What happens now?”

Dr. Kalonia smiles. Maybe it’s supposed to be reassuring, but Finn can’t help but wonder if the smile is one of pity instead, if she can see how oddly attached he’s gotten already and knows that such a stupid attachment can’t last.

“I’ve commed the General. I suppose she’ll have something to say about it, but unfortunately, I think recuperating from the mission and counting our losses is her first priority right now.” Something twinkles in her eyes, that same look she gave him before, the one he can’t quite understand. “In the meantime, though… I see no problem in letting the two of you take care of her. She seems to like you both quite a lot.” She looks to Poe, and Finn follows her gaze, and his heart melts anew.

The baby has managed to get all but in Poe’s lap, now, and she’s leaning up, chubby fingers playing with the silver ring dangling from the chain on Poe’s neck as she lets out a little cooing noise, clearly entertained. Finn knows the significance of that ring, and it only makes the sight all the more endearing—especially as his gaze turns up towards Poe’s face and he sees the absolute helplessness and adoration there.

This baby has crawled her way into both of their hearts, it seems.

“We’ll take care of her.” Finn doesn’t need to think about it, and with the look on Poe’s face, he knows he doesn’t need to ask. He would take care of this baby for as long as he was needed. A couple hours, or a couple days, or months, or _however_ long. He would do it.

He moves to crouch down next to Poe again, and a smile splits his face as he watches those little fingers grasping that ring, tugging at it gently, Poe staring down at this baby all the while with light and love shining in his eyes. He’s pretty much forgotten about Dr. Kalonia until she speaks again, and even then, he doesn’t turn to look, and neither does Poe.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” she murmurs. She probably has other things to attend to, but Finn doesn’t mind her absence. He doesn’t mind anything, as long as he gets to keep watching this baby play with Poe’s mother’s ring. “Comm me if you need anything.” With that, she slips out of the room, leaving Poe and Finn crouched over the blankets on the floor, the little girl cooing and laughing and smiling.

Finn could stay in this moment forever.

“I think she likes the reflections,” Poe murmurs after a bit, his own hands joining the baby’s on the ring, twisting it a bit so that she can watch the way it reflects the light—and she laughs almost wildly, showing off those couple of little teeth in her mouth again.

“I think she does,” Finn agrees, and he’s smiling so hard that his cheeks hurt, now. The baby turns a little at the sound of his voice, and after a moment, drops down to the floor and begins to crawl towards him, each movement a little stumbling. She must’ve learned how to crawl pretty recently. The movement isn’t natural yet, it seems, still a little unsteady. She ends up in front of him regardless, little hands grabbing his pants as she tries to climb him, and he laughs, looking down at those big eyes watching him. “Hello, there.”

Poe chuckles. It’s quiet for a moment, the baby still beaming and exploring Finn, before Poe speaks up, his eyes focusing on the other two.

“Should probably give her a name, you know.”

Finn blinks, because the idea hasn’t occurred to him. She probably did have a name, back with her family, but he hadn’t gotten any IDs. He had no way of knowing that name. That meant she was going to need a new one.

He looks up at Poe, a little bit of heat coming to his cheeks as he shrugs, shaking his head a little. “Don’t look at me. You’re the naming expert.”

Poe laughs, and leans forward, resting on his elbows now. “I’ve named exactly one person, and that was you.” Finn remembers, of course. “C’mon. It’s your turn. You’ve got to catch up to my record.”

Finn rolls his eyes a little, but he doesn’t have any witty remarks or sarcastic responses to throw back. This baby does need a name. The only issue is that Finn just isn’t that great at them. He looks down at her again, taking in those big eyes and the dark, curly tufts of hair on her head. How is he supposed to name this? How is he supposed to even put words to this?

He knows a lot of names. He knows the names of his friends—Poe, Rose, Rey, Jess, Kaydel, Temmin, and so many more—but none of those seem right. He could name her _after_ somebody, like Luke Skywalker or Han. Or Slip, he thinks for a moment, but giving her a trooper’s nickname leaves a bad taste in his mouth. He could make up a name, too, mash together different letters—but what if they all just sounded weird? Or—worse, what if nobody ever knew how to spell it?

No, he decides. He’s going to give her a real name. The issue is just deciding which name fits.

He thinks for a very, very long time, and then it comes to him all at once. He doesn’t hesitate before he blurts out the proposal, eyes still focused on that little face.

“What about Shara?”

The ring was what had done it, in the end. _She’d_ chosen that name, really, not him, the moment that she’d reached out to grab the silver chain Poe always wore. Finn doesn’t know if that really did mean something, or if maybe that was the Force or something like that, but the moment he says it, the name just feels right.

And even if it wasn’t some Force-inspired act of magic, Finn still thinks it will make a fine name. Poe loves to talk about his mother. Finn’s heard a lot of her stories by now. A Rebel pilot, one who’d flown missions with Luke Skywalker and Leia, back when she was a princess and not a general. She’d flown at the Battle of Endor, had helped take down the second Death Star. And—Finn smiles just at the memory of Poe telling him this—she’d taught Poe how to fly. _No wonder you’re so good,_ Finn remembers saying, a teasing lilt to his voice. _You had one of the best teaching you._ The beaming look on Poe’s face wasn’t one he would ever forget.

He knows Shara Bey is not alive. This part of his mother, Poe seems much more restrictive about, but he’s opened up to Finn a couple of times—mostly in the dead of night, when the nightmares come. Finn knows it was sudden, and he knows Poe was young. He knows that it still hurts enough to make him toss and turn and sweat in the middle of the night.

But even so, even with that hurt, Poe _loves_ his mother still—and this feels right. This feels like a way to honor that. Even if he never knew Shara Bey, Finn can imagine what she must’ve been like from the stories that Poe tells. Bright and brave, and triumphant over the war she was thrown into. Finn sees that in this baby, too.

Finn doesn’t look up at Poe, doesn’t try to glimpse at his reaction, but he can feel it all the same. He can feel the way Poe freezes for a moment, his body going a little rigid and tense, and one wave of worry passes through his mind—was it too much? Was it inappropriate? Was he digging up old wounds that Poe would rather forget? The questions swirl in his mind, and he’s about to speak up again—to say what, he doesn’t know, to apologize or offer another name or correct himself—but he doesn’t get the chance before Poe nods.

“Yeah.” His voice is thick, but not in an unpleasant way. Finn can tell that this means something to him, and more importantly—that he really is on board with the name. He nods again, and swallows a little, finally letting a smile appear that eases all of Finn’s worries. “Yeah, I like that. Shara.”

Finn lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding, and his shoulders relax some just as the baby—Shara—starts grabbing at his hand, playing with his fingers as though they are toys. He doesn’t mind, and he doesn’t disturb her as with his free hand, he reaches out for Poe’s, squeezing the man’s hand softly as he looks up to meet Poe’s shining eyes. “Perfect,” he said softly, because it _is_. This—the three of them, him and Poe and Shara—feels good, feels better than good, and he doesn’t want to lose it.

Poe seems to share the sentiment. He scoots a little closer to Finn, and when Shara looks up at him, alerted by the movement, Poe smiles in a way Finn has never quite seen, squeezing Finn’s hand back as he murmurs to the girl.

“Hi, Shara.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again!!!
> 
> thanks to everyone for reading. it means a lot to me. 
> 
> if you liked this, perhaps leave a kudos or a comment (or both, if you're feeling especially ~wild~). you will probably make my day.
> 
> also: i do write other finnpoe fics, which perhaps you may also enjoy!!!!!!!
> 
> if you'd like to find me elsewhere, my tumblr is @dotnscal and my twitter is @lascndot
> 
> thanks a bunch, again, and see you for the next chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> there is chapter one. <3
> 
> if you happened to enjoy it, please leave kudos/a comment. it will fuel me, and then perhaps i will be inspired to create more things that you may possibly like. 
> 
> find me on twitter @lascndot or on tumblr @dotnscal


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